(Scars do not appear to be cause of death –shock ... - Bad Request

~~~~~
The Sigilians of the Lower Ward were unfriendly enough already, but the
moment I ran around asking for a coffin maker their overall moods soured
even further. I was about to see why.
The shop was chill as the grave. A necessity, I supposed if you didn't want to
be overwhelmed by the varnish fumes when there weren't any windows to
leave open. Straight, sleek coffins were set up about the shop, and a
selection of wooden planks were set along one wall.
Next to a counter wsa a rugged looking, square jawed man in the middle of a
conversation with a customer. The shopkeep turned to me with a wide
smile. "How are you, cutter, good day to you, good day indeed." He squinted
at me for a second, then thrust his hand out to shake mine.
"Greetings," I said as my palm was wrapped in his crushing grip.
"Hamrys at your service, member of the Harmonium and the fashioner of
fine coffins for the recently departed. I think I know you, do I not...? Let me
see if I can place it..." He paused to think a moment. "Sharp with names I
was in the Harmonium, let me tell you. Knew everyone on the entire
Ward..."
"Er... you can call me Adahn," I lied, "I have some questions..."
"Ask away." He gave me a broad smile.
"Who's your friend here?" I asked, gesturing at the quiet gentleman across
from us.
He glanced at the customer. "Dimtree?" He shrugged, like he hadn't
considered the fellow before. "Quiet, doesn't say much - do you, Dimtree?"
Dimtree didn't respond, but simply gave the same blank expression. A few
seconds later, Dimtree nodded. Hamrys shrugged and turned back to me.
"Wandered in one day a few weeks back, been a regular ever since. He
hasn't bought anything, but he doesn't cause any trouble, so I let him stay.
Seems harmless enough. You see, when I was serving the Harmonium, part
of our work was to take people under our wing, give them a little shelter
from the chaos of the streets, get 'em spruced up..."
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